Silence is poison
by Megaphone.Kills.You
Summary: Your name is Tavros Nitram and you are the biggest failure on earth. There are too many unspoken questions and far too few answers between you and your friend and you wish you could change that. You can't though. You never could. :Sadstuck:AU:


**Have some Sadstuck PBJ, because it's time I come out of the closet and declare myself a fan. It is done and nothing hurts. Watch out for the VriskaxTavros and the (one-sided) VriskaxJohn hints, my semi-shitty writing and for, well, Sadstuck.**

* * *

From the corner of your eyes you watch him, taking note of the familiar grin on his face. The school work you're supposed to be working on is forgotten as you continue to steal glances at him every so often. He is apparently engaged in a conversation with that short guy who always shouts at everyone unlucky enough to step in his path. His name was Karkat? That guy scares you a bit usually, but right now he is rather calm for his standards, which might be because his friend simply has that kind of effect on people. Even you feel more at ease when he's around.

One time he catches you staring and nods in your direction. It sets your face aflame and you quickly return to the math problem you're required to solve, hoping the angry guy keeps him occupied.

But such is not the case. Why does he have to be at the same park as you anyway? After a few minutes you notice him sitting down across from you, the lazy smile still in place and eyes hooded, just like always. "Hey Tavbro" he drawls out and leans further over the table.

You almost giggle at the silly nickname he gave you, then you realize that this could maybe be misunderstood, so you merely smile and greet him back a bit more chipper than you were feeling just moments ago. Your feel your face growing hotter as he inquires about why you were staring at him earlier and quickly mumble out something like "I wasn't looking at anything in, uh, particular. Just...spacing out, you know?"  
You recall the homework and remind yourself that if he stays around for longer he will probably distract you. "Uhm, Gamzee?" you say tentatively. Maybe it will offend him? "I still have to do this homework so could you please wait till I am done? Only if you want to, of course..."

The smile doesn't disappear from Gamzee's face and he just looks at you without saying anything for a short while. Just when you start to get uncomfortable, he rises to his feet and with one swift motion, pulls your exercise book from you. You make a noise of protest which goes unnoticed by him and plead for him to give it back to you. "Motherfucking nope" he cuts you off and shakes his head with a serious expression that seems so alien that it almost sends you into a laughing fit. "A brother can only work for so long. And fuck, I ain't ever seen you doin' nothing but motherfucking working." He keeps the notebook out of your reach and times like this you wished he were just a tad bit more mature and sensible.  
But then again, he wouldn't be Gamzee if he were and that's what you like about him in the first place. He just doesn't care about things like grades or other people's opinion or the future, like he'll never grow up. You used to want to be like Peter Pan, yet you have the feeling like your friend suits him much more. A kid forever.

He ends up wheeling you out of the park, down the street and you realize he's taking you over to his house as you recognize the route he's taking. The thought brings a smile to your face.  
Usually when you're over at his place, it means he found some new music to show to you and the afternoons and evenings are then spend listening to wicked beats blasting from his stereo while being total dorks in general.  
Alright, both of you are aware the music is terrible and makes other people's ears bleed, yet it makes it all the better when his neighbors knock at his door asking him to turn down the volume. It makes you feel light and rebellious and you always just turn the music louder.

On the way you feel eyes following you and you wonder how you must look to the other people. A gangly boy with black hair that hasn't seen a comb in years, a stoner-esque smile and clothes that have seen better days, pushing the wheelchair of a pathetic boy with tanned skin and a ridiculous Mohawk. It probably looks like Gamzee is some weird, evil drug addict who is kidnapping a helpless, legless cripple as a virgin sacrifice or something like that. And for once you couldn't care less.

As predicted, your friend hands you some CDs from interprets you're sure nobody else has ever heard of, or wants to for that matter. You make some more careful attempts to coax him into giving you your things back, which he unfortunately sees through and in return talks you into staying deep into the night.  
You don't ask him why his dad is never around, just like he never asks you how you lost your legs.

It's around midnight that you feel like maybe it's time get some sleep. Suppressing your yawns has become a task too hard for you to handle and your limbs feel so unbearable heavy. You rarely ever relax like this, and the lack of tension makes you all the more aware of the effects of constant stress and sleep deprivation.  
You call out to Gamzee who climbed on the roof to smoke a cigarette. He knows just how bad you react to the smoke, always coughing like there's no tomorrow. You wait around for a few seconds but you grow a bit nervous when there comes no reply. You lick your lips and contemplate whether you'd be able to heave yourself through the window onto the rooftop when your ears pick up a cough. You try again and again. Is he ignoring you?

Your stomach churns and all of a sudden, the insecurity and the fears of your everyday life return, swimming around in your head. He's probably retreated to the roof because he actually needs a break from you. You're annoying him, that's why he pretends not to hear you. Despite your chants of_ 'Gamzee'd never do that, he'd never do that. He can't'_ , you find yourself close to tears. Not only because of your best friend's behavior, but because of your own silliness. Why are you overreacting like this? You're making a fuss over nothing again.

But alas, something is clearly wrong, so you wheel yourself to the window and slowly but surely lift yourself out of your wheelchair, until you're outside and the suffocating warm summer night air engulfs you. Instantly, you look around and spot Gamzee just a meter or so away from you.

An uneasy feeling settles down in your stomach when you see that his smile is absent, just like his mind, judging from the glassy look of his blue eyes.

You fight to overcome your fear and carefully you crawl up the slightly sloping roof to sit down beside him. He doesn't even seem to notice and merely stares off into space. This would normally not unnerve you as he is notorious for having his mind elsewhere almost constantly. Normally he smiles though and right now there is not a trace of even a smirk to be found.

"G-Gamzee?" He doesn't budge the slightest from his position, legs drawn close to his torso and head slightly tilted upwards. So. What now? This Gamzee scares you.

You reach out, cursing the tremble of your hand to the deepest pits of hell and gently shake his shoulder, apparently waking him out of his stupor. Despite your heart hammering in your chest like it wants to break your ribcage open from the inside, you don't look away when you lock eyes with him.

You ask him if something is wrong, pointing out the missing of his trademark smile. He lets out a giggle that sounds borderline crazy, which might be due to the fact that it's so fake it makes fairies look real in comparison. "'S an upside-down smile, bro. This here motherfucker's just all spaced out, 's all. Motherfucking miracles, man..." he tries to reassure you but you're not that naïve anymore that you buy it. Also, his reply sounds so mechanical, a standard-Gamzee-reply that could relate to anything and everything and with no real meaning behind it.

So you merely raise an eyebrow and continue to look him straight in the eye. You're sure you've never held eye contact for so long with anyone in your life before. This is really the boldest thing you have done in years.

This little staring contest carries on and in the end it's you again who gives up. Your shoulder slump in defeat and you just sit awkwardly next to Gamzee, your gaze directed anywhere but him. What were you thinking? It's obviously something personal; something not meant to be shared with you. You aren't that important to Gamzee. Although you wish you were.

The rustle of clothes catches your attention and before you can really comprehend what's happening, skinny arms wrap themselves around you and with a strong, but gentle pull, your back is pressed against your friend's chest and you are now painfully aware of so many things at once that you feel a bit lightheaded, for example how your stomach does the weirdest acrobatic stunts or how Gamzee's breath kinda tickles on your ear and the shaved side of your head. What wouldn't you do for some water right now; your throat and mouth feel like the Sahara decided to migrate there.

You're about to faint from embarrassment.  
It's not like you don't enjoy the way this is turning out, actually you can't tell how often you have wished for something like this happening. All those times you fantasized he might still view you as more than a good friend, all those times you have dreamed about lying in his arms like this and all those times you scolded yourself for those kind of fantasies because who would ever want you after you've broken their heart?  
This still is kind of a shock to you anyway. You aren't mentally prepared and now your immense happiness is secondary as you are sure your heart is going to fail you and hell, your face might as well be on fire and you wouldn't notice because of how bad you are blushing.

You hold your breath until you have somewhat adjusted to this new situation. Your breathing is a bit erratic at first and you listen to Gamzee's slow inhaling and exhaling; it's strangely calming and soon you fall into the same breathing rhythm.  
His arms tighten their hold on you ever so slightly and his breath now fans over the skin on your neck. Your heart gives a jump in your chest as he nuzzles his face into your neck, yet you recover from the embarrassment much faster than earlier. You open your mouth to say something, but as if sensing what you are about to do, he whispers in your ear "Sssh, Tavbro. Let's just get our chill on, alright?"

You have never heard him sounding so tired and almost pleading; worry washes over you, however you don't act on it and simply lean into his embrace. Talking to him would lead you nowhere, after all.

Time passes fast and you suspect that he has fallen asleep at some point and you feel you don't mind too much. This position is just fine with you anyway, just cuddling with Gamzee like this, even though it scares you a bit how skinny he actually is. Your own fatigue is somehow forgotten and it's a surprise when the first sun rays pierce the sky.

Your friend hums quietly against the side of your neck when he wakes up. You try not to shiver at the sensation and instead offer him a nervous "M-Morning Gamzee!" You expect him to let go of you, to realize that he's snuggling with lame old Tavros and retreat in disgust. He only pulls you even closer and slurs something that could be interpreted as a 'good morning'.

Amazing how Gamzee can act so chill as if he hadn't been acting incredibly strange just the night before and as if he hadn't spend the night holding you close like a lover would.  
You on the other hand are close to having a nervous breakdown once you realize that your math homework is still not complete and that you really have to hurry up. Gamzee is confused by this and you explain that you want to get some things from home first. You don't feel comfortable confiding that you do your best to avoid Vriska Serket who never fails to remind you of the uselessness of your existence.

You're a bit ashamed of yourself that you cannot tell him about that; you're best bros, the best of silly friends, he should know. But you don't tell him and he doesn't ask.

Vriska still catches you.  
Has been lurking in the shadows all along, like spider out to catch her prey. Wordlessly she grabs onto the handles of your wheelchair. Her silence surprises you and it almost makes you more uneasy than when she fucks up your mind with taunts and well-hidden jabs. The reason for her random episodes of remote kindness eludes most and you too aren't so sure of their origin.  
That girl is a walking contradiction; one day she hates you and the next she kisses your tears away, one second she tears you apart and the next she wants to build up your confidence. She might actually be nice and there's some reason for her to reject who she is and shield herself with her hatred.  
Yet as you've been told, your brain is broken and that's why you can't hate her. Just another flaw of you to add to the pile.

As usual she pushes you out of your four-wheeled device once you reach the school building.

Gamzee skips school today and you wonder if it might be because of the night prior. After the school bell rings you embark on the long journey to his house and for the first time this season you wished it were just a tad bit cooler.

You ring his door bell, but nobody answers and the door is uncharacteristically locked for once. This shouldn't unnerve you as much as it does. You try calling him but it only goes to voicemail. Where could he be? Back when you were younger, you had all those secret hiding places, but as you grew older Gamzee preferred to just stay at home. A bit as if he were waiting for something that he didn't want to miss.

'_Maybe he is over at Karkat's?' _

You fumble with your phone for a while, just to realize that you don't even know the guy's number. You do however know where he lives due to your mutual friend's eagerness to drag you there on numerous occasions.

You dread this visit. What if Gamzee isn't even there and you're just making a fool out of yourself again?

Karkat's house is small and even more rundown than your own which intimidates you a bit. The door doesn't open immediately after you knock and when it does, the inhabitant of this home appears to be in a horrible mood. The teen's dark hair is tousled and the bags under his eyes darker than ever. His gaze softens slightly when he recognizes you, his shoulders sag and he suddenly looks so utterly exhausted.

"Come in" he rasps out, not even wasting one of his creative insults and allows you to roll yourself onto the stained carpet floor.

Gamzee is asleep on the couch, long limbs dangling over the armrest, snoring softly. The sight is strangely hilarious and you fight back a giggle. The affectionate look, full of pity, of Karkat as he studies his friend's sleeping form isn't missed and you suddenly feel like an intruder.

You wait around in awkward silence, gaze nervously flickering about the tiny living room and you try your hardest not to abscond the fuck out of here. This all feels so strangely surreal.

When Gamzee wakes up, it's a relief and you wave him. "Hey Gamzee" you say and he grins. Instead of replying, he merely makes a hand gesture to beckon you closer and, thinking nothing of it, you comply and are completely caught off guard when he scoops you up in his arms.

The position is incredibly uncomfortable, because you're half crushed against him and you're neither on the couch nor in your wheelchair but something in between and hell, Karkat is there and watching.

No wait, he isn't watching. Just seconds after you've been trapped in the embrace, the short insomniac follows. "What the fuck, shitstain?" he curses and this becomes weirder and more embarrassing by the second. For a second Karkat struggles, hitting you in the face once in the process, before realizing that Gamzee does not intend to let either of you go and he stops fighting.

You hold your breath. There's something about this hug that strikes you as so unbelievably sad that you want to cry and hold on to your friend forever, no matter if there's a third party involved. You don't though. You never do something bold. You never do anything.  
You don't ask what's wrong.

While you wheel yourself home, you think back on it.

Your mother is furious that you stayed away from home for so long without telling her and your conscience is eating you from the inside. There's an abnormal feeling in the air and dread crawls down your broken spine.

In your room she's waiting for you. She's always already there.

She's built a web to lure in her prey and you can never avoid its sticky threads, always end up tangled in it and your mind consumed by her never sated hunger.

"Where the hell were you?" she snaps, venom dripping from every syllable and it's none of her business and you tell her anyway, leaving out the threesome-hug. She's always so nosy, always meddles with other people's lives and messes them up. Vriska involves herself with everything and everyone, but she doesn't need to know that particular thing.

(You should know by know that your resolves never last long.)

Since she doesn't insult you right away, you assume she is feeling absolutely miserable, which would explain her earlier almost kind behavior and her visit. Her face is set in a scowl as she plops down on your bed like it's hers and pats the space next to her. It's not an invitation, it's an order.

The girl impatiently sighs while you maneuver through the hazardous mess of cards and other miscellaneous objects scattered around. Vriska really acts like she owns the place you think and almost roll your eyes.

You hesitantly take to 'offered' spot and watch as she lies down and claims most of the bed for her, blue eyes staring at your ceiling. "You suck" she exclaims, no real ill intend behind the words. "I feel like shit and you decide to ditch me for that lazy ass Gamzee."

"Uhm, sorry?" you reply, not sure what she expects from you. "Lie down" she commands, disregarding your apology entirely and when you do, she turns to lie on her side so you can face each other.

She bites her lips, painted blue to match her eyes. Then she pours out her misery like she's the dumpster and you are the waste dump. These little random out-of-character feeling jams always leave you exhausted and at the same time make you content.

It's only times like these that Vriska is vulnerable you feel like you do have some use after all. You listen dutifully as she rants on and on, voice cracking and rising and falling in volume as she tells about how her mom threatened to kick her out again, about how she got involved in a fist fight and didn't even get a bruise and about how John kissed some girl.

"Tell me Tavros, you should know since you've got experience with that: how can you be so stupid?" she questions and her hand tightly clenches around your blankets. Honestly, you wonder. How can anyone be as stupid as you are? You're sure John doesn't know he hurts Vriska; the guy has no idea that his 'best friend' has a heart somewhere.

Weeks pass by.

Gamzee and you still meet up, though he practically never leaves his house nowadays. You still listen to horrible rap music and dork around in general like you used to. You're as comfortable as ever. Nights when you stay over, the two of you retreat to his roof and cuddle. It's become routine and you love it, because you can pretend that you are special to him, it makes you feel better.  
Sometimes you pass his house and see he's doing the same with short, angry Karkat and it reminds you that you aren't special. You feel used.

So, so, so used. And hurt.

"So you do love him?"

Wow, it sounds oddly...final when Vriska says it like that. Her thin fingers are entwined with yours, your noses inches apart, almost bumping when you nod slightly.

You swore yourself to never tell her. Yet here you are, baring your heart and waiting for her to crush it, you old masochist. A cruel smirk tugs at her lips for a moment. "How ironic" she remarks and chuckles, each sound aiming daggers at you.

There was a time when Gamzee was in love with you. Fifteen years old and freshly crippled Tavros didn't reciprocate.  
Like always, your lanky friend was very open about it, blunt even. Simply suggested to make out one day when they were chilling in the park. And you moron stuttered around for a while. You freaked out. He told you he loved you and you didn't take it serious, laughed nervously and then changed the subject quickly. Never have you seen such a heart-broken look on Gamzee's face before.

Now the tables are turned and you can only sit in your godforsaken wheelchair, beating yourself up. No wonder Gamzee doesn't care about you like that anymore. No wonder he stopped treating you special. Not because he wants to hurt you, he probably doesn't even know that.  
Because you _aren't_ special. You can't help him. You can't erase his fears and you can't ask about his problems.

"You're so fucking dumb and paradox" Vriska comments and closes her eyes, presses her forehead against yours. Her statement leaves you puzzled until you realize what she meant with that.

As you and your tormentor-slash-friend rest side by side, hands still locked, you realize that you're doing the same as he is. You're using him and her, just like he uses you and Karkat. How could you be so blind and not see it? Who are you to resent Gamzee for using you when you do the exact same thing?

It's a Saturday night. Unlike most teenagers, you stay at home. Or better yet, at Gamzee's house. He's attempting to bake a cake with your assistance with a stretch on the 'attempting' since both of you are just goofing around with the ingredients.

There are handfuls of flour in your hair and on your shirt, while some sugar coats your best friend's messy hair and both your hands are sticky from accidentally crushing a particular fragile egg. Brown eyes meet blue ones and the laughter dies.

You lick your lips as silence settles, silence you want to break for the first time ever and neither of you looks away. There is the same atmosphere as the night he first acted weird.

You feel like now or never, now or never.


End file.
